


No Strings Attached

by bioticbooty



Series: No Strings Attached [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbooty/pseuds/bioticbooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1 of the 'No Strings Attached' saga. Shepard and Alenko meet each other on Trident while on shore leave. After a chance encounter leaves them instantly attracted to each other, they abandon all caution. No names, no dates, no strings attached. But once it's over, is it really over? Shenko. Pure fluff, no plot. You've been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Pre Mass Effect fluff, the year is 2179. Alexis Shepard and Kaidan Alenko end up choosing the same place for shore leave: Trident. Everything derails from there as two people's lives change forever.

Second Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko rubbed his eyes blearily, datapad abandoned in his lap. So much for taking recommendations on reading material. He wasn't sure what the hell that had been, but one thing it definitely was _not_ was enjoyable.

He checked the time on his omni-tool and stretched. The transport should have landed ten minutes ago. What was the hang up? He craned his neck over the edge of his seat...

… and came face to face with bluest eyes he'd ever seen, peering unexpectedly up at him. The owner of the eyes blinked, then grinned coyly when he continued to look at her.

"Hi," she said, and he flushed and grunted something back that _might_ have been 'hi' before returning to a sitting position.

Reason number two for his vacation was to get away from a bad breakup. His buddies had warned him about dating civilians, but she'd seemed different. Then, at least. He wasn't sure if it was just the novelty of him being a biotic _and_ approachable (though the uniform probably had something to do with it, too), but after a few months, she'd started complaining that he was always away on 'duty' and never spent any time with her.

Red flag number one: partner wants you to change careers so you can spend more time with them. He wasn't against the idea of spending more time with his girlfriend. He'd certainly missed her while he was away. He had thought she'd understood what it meant to date a career military man. Apparently not.

He didn't need the resounding replies of 'get out, now!' from his friends to know that staying with her would be a bad idea, and not necessarily because she was a bad person. They just had different needs, and he was unwilling to compromise on the military thing. Unfortunately, she hadn't taken the news quite as well as he'd hoped. A long night, a box of his stuff flung at him, and three beers later, he'd proclaimed himself officially single, if a little sad. Definitely a lot pissed, but not _just_ at her (though she certainly factored into it).

That was just over a month ago.

Reason number one for the vacation was to just get somewhere quiet. Somewhere where he could just be and not have to do anything. Usually he cruised back to Earth and visited his parents in Vancouver. Not this time. The express purpose of this vacation was to give the galaxy the middle finger for three days and become a hermit.

What he _didn't_ need was the newly acquired memory of piercing blue eyes haunting him.

He closed his in an attempt to shut them out. It didn't work.

A finger tapped him on the shoulder, and he peered up to find the owner of the blue eyes leaning over the back of the seat above him. "There's a storm, apparently."

Blue eyes smiled, and he mentally checked himself, opting to reply instead of staring at her with a deer-in-the-headlights sort of look that was bound to get him in trouble. "It's not supposed to be hurricane season yet."

She looked up as the Flight Attendant walked by. He discretely studied her features and noted with only minor surprise (if he was honest with himself, and his general rule of thumb was to always be honest) that he was attracted to her. It wasn't just the piercing blue of her eyes or the cute shape of her chin, nor was it the smattering of light freckles on her nose and cheeks. It was all of it and more. The way she held herself, the small dimple in the corner of her mouth as she smiled, the light in her eyes that said she was thoroughly enjoying herself...

… and the rosy tinge to her cheeks that he realized meant she was thinking along the same lines as him. Warmth flooded his face, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her.

"It's not a hurricane, just a hell of a lot of rain."

He shrugged, pointedly maintaining eye contact and _not_ scrutinizing her features. "Rain's not so bad."

She grinned down at him and he unconsciously tugged at the collar of his shirt. "I think you misunderstood. It's a _fucking lot_ of rain."

He laughed. "As long as there aren't any waterspouts, I'm good."

_"Attention passengers: the transport will be landing shortly. We apologize for the delay."_

Blue eyes smiled at him once more before vanishing.

Nor was she kidding. When the transport finally landed and everyone was allowed to vacate, the rain was practically slamming into the cement. He hefted his small duffel onto his shoulder, silently thankful that the military had ingrained in him the necessity to pack light, and ran along the row of rentable aircars. He finally found one near the end and quickly swiped his chit through the machine, claiming this one as his own for the next three days. By the time he got the door open, he was completely soaked and thoroughly regretting his decision to not wear a jacket.

At least the rain was warm. There was just a lot of it.

He threw his duffel into the back and slid into the seat and was just about to shut the door when his attention was drawn to blue eyes, running along the length of aircars, holding her bag over head (which was as effective as using a cocktail umbrella). She stopped when she reached the end and peered around. He did, too.

There were no more aircars. Most were already gone, their occupants quickly ferreting away to their residences of choice.

His chivalrous streak reared its head, and he clambered out and shouted out to her. She ran over once he waved and motioned at his car, relief flooding her face.

"God, I thought I was gonna be stuck here until more aircars were relocated," she hollered when she was within ten feet. He relieved her of her duffel and tossed it in the back next to his, noting that it was the same Alliance standard gear he sported. If he checked, he knew he'd find the Alliance insignia embroidered on the flap.

"Where are you headed?" he asked as she jumped into the seat. He followed suit and punched the button to shut the door.

Her dark-hair clung to her cheeks as she twisted to look at him. Rivulets of water glided down her skin, and he unconsciously shifted closer to her. Her blue eyes were deep and open. Innocent. "Do you have a hotel lined up?"

"Yeah, a resort on the edge of the ocean. About fifteen kilometers from here."

She grinned and tapped the dashboard. "That'll do!"

He arched an eyebrow and powered up the car. "You didn't reserve a room?"

He maneuvered the car towards the flow of traffic. The woman slid out of her coat. She was wearing a small, Alliance blue tank-top. He'd never found Alliance blue more alluring than he did now. "Didn't know I was coming here till... seven hours ago?"

"What, did you throw a dart at a board and let it pick?"

She smiled. "Something like that."

After a few minutes silence where he navigated the aircar into the throng of traffic, he asked, "How long's your shore leave?" He saw her give him a strange look out of the corner of his eye.

"Three days," she replied. "Yours?"

"Same."

"Grab the days where the Alliance will let you, eh?"

"Something like that," he flashed her a grin, and steered along the path the auto-navigation directed him to take in order to get to the resort. Handy, that.

"Running to or from?"

It was his turn to give her an odd look before answering. "From. You?"

"Both. But your 'from' sounds heavier."

He shifted in his seat. "Maybe."

"That bad, eh?"

He looked at her... and found her smiling at him. Not a coy smile, promising all sorts of hidden pleasures. Just a simple, genuine smile. Odd that he should find that more attractive than the other.

"Civilian."

"Ooh," she sucked in a breath. "Decidedly not."

He decided to have some fun. "That bad, eh?" He winked at her.

"A one night marathon session of 'Star Trek' and copious amounts of hot chocolate bad."

"'Next Generation' or 'Deep Space Nine'?" he asked, offering only his two favorites. If he had to pick, he'd choose 'Next Generation.'

"'Next Generation'," she replied, delight suffusing her voice.

"Shit, I should have thought of that."

"Don't guys have some sort of bro code? Like 'Avengers assemble!'"

"You did not just call it that."

She laughed. "What, is it like 'Fight Club,' and you're not supposed to talk about it?"

Kaidan set the cruise control and twisted to mock glare at her. "What's the first rule of Fight Club?"

Her mouth dropped open as she realized she was caught out. "Damn." He shook his head at her as if he was disappointed. "I'm not getting out of this one, am I?"

"Short of ritual suicide, I think you're screwed." He turned off the cruise control and slowed the aircar as he pulled into a parking spot in front of the resort.

"You know-" she started to say as he opened the door and rain slammed into them anew, cutting her off abruptly. She gasped at the sudden shock of water and he reached around and retrieved her jacket from where she'd tossed it and plopped it over her head. The gesture was just as startling and she lifted the edge and peered at him from beneath it. "Thanks!"

Rain continued to pelt him as they both climbed out of the aircar and grabbed their bags. He was glad that the seats were faux leather and sealed, 'cause otherwise this aircar would be out of commission for at least a day while it dried out.

Suddenly the onslaught of water diminished as a warm body pressed up against him, the small jacket now sheltering both of them. "My mom always said it was rude to not share," she grinned.

She was close. Really close. Her arm was wrapped around his neck, holding the other side of the jacket as she stood on her tippy-toes to provide the necessary reach. He swung the strap of his duffel over his shoulder (noting she had already done that with hers) and reached up with his newly freed hand to relieve her of holding his side of the makeshift umbrella. He closed his hand around hers, expecting it to slip free.

Note his surprise when she didn't. Instead, she flashed him another dazzling grin as they stood there stupidly in the rain.

He'd never been closer to kissing a stranger than he was now.

Cold fingers wrapped around his and she tugged him, breaking him out of his revery.

"As I was saying before the rain interrupted me, sometimes I think dating military is the only way to go."

The sudden shift struck him momentarily dumb as he absorbed her words. "Yeah?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Civilians only bitch about you being away all the time."

He pensively tapped his chin, bringing her hand along for the ride. "I think you're right about that one."

They stood there like that for a moment, lingering on the brink of closing the gap, fingers intertwined and resting against his chest where he'd let them fall. She leaned in conspiratorially and he found himself bending down closer to her. She whispered exaggeratedly, "Plus, they freak out about the headjack."

Now this was new. Her hair was down, so of course he'd missed the one obvious indicator that she was a biotic. She'd undoubtedly noticed his. It wasn't exactly hidden to begin with because the Alliance had pretty strict standards on what constituted acceptable hair for men. And since he was an L2, the headjack was slightly larger, if flatter, than the L3's. Flush with his skin at the base of his skull, instead of protruding ever so slightly.

Unbidden thoughts of what it would be like to be _unrestrained_ floated into the forefront of his mind, and all attempts to shut them down fell on figurative deaf ears. Sometimes, in the throes of passion it was hard to suppress the biotic flare as his nervous system exploded and reacted to the sensations flooding his body.

Blue eyes cleared her throat. "Uh, we should get inside." Her voice was breathier than it had been earlier.

"Right," he said huskily and guided them to the lobby.

The door swished open automatically before them, and the pair rushed in with a wave of water cascading around them. The sudden shift to a dry climate was startling, and blue eyes dropped the jacket from over their heads, though her hand remained firmly in his.

The lobby was devoid of people. The only sounds were the drops of water hitting the floor in a rapidly growing puddle around them, their heavy breathing from the quick run over (though part of his brain recognized the fact that his wasn't entirely due to the run and she was, to some extent, responsible for his current state), and the atmospheric music lightly playing in the background. He shared a confused glance with blue eyes before moving towards the front-desk.

An asari rushed out through a door once he was within five feet, an apologetic smile plastered on her face as she sat down in front of the terminal. "Welcome to the Trident Ocean-Side Resort, my name is Tel'sea." The asari frowned slightly at the trail of water the two had left behind them, but quickly replaced it with an indulgent smile. "Room for two?"

His heart stopped in his chest. Room for two. In the first second, he processed the meaning of the words. Even if Tel'sea hadn't noticed their hand-holding, the sheer fact that they'd arrived together was grounds enough to assume that they might be a couple. A notion that startled him, because rationally speaking he knew he wasn't ready for a relationship, and honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to be in one right now. And it wasn't because he didn't find blue eyes attractive, because he most certainly did. Under any other circumstances, he might have considered asking her out on a date. Scratch that, he _definitely_ would.

In the second second, he realized he was still holding her hand, and could feel the soft inner side of her wrist. Her pulse had doubled as soon as Tel'sea had said those three words: room for two. But she hadn't let go. Well, wasn't that something?

Alenko wasn't usually the adventurous sort. Always taking things slow, cautious. Always in control.

But she had done something to him that made him want to throw caution to the wind.

So as the third second was dangerously close to passing and pushing their silence into the realm of awkwardness, he opened his mouth and said, "Yes."

To hell with his reservation. He wasn't itching to buy anything any time soon.

Her hand tightened around his, and relief swelled through him that his reading on the situation hadn't been presumptuous. Bold, but not presumptuous.

"Excellent, I just need a credit chit to process you." He handed her his chit with his free hand. "Do you prefer a view of the ocean or land?"

"Ocean," blue eyes responded. Her pulse was still heightened, and he adjusted his grip so that their fingers were intertwined.

He couldn't believe what he was doing. Tel'sea scanned his chit, handed it back to him, then gave them each room keys. "We serve a continental breakfast in the mornings in the lobby until mid-day. There's also room service available at all hours, though over night the menu is limited. On the far side of the resort, we have a restaurant that's open until midnight, and a cafe open all hours. If you have any questions or need anything, feel free to activate the comm located by the door in your room." She eyed their small duffels hanging wetly off their shoulders. "Would you like someone to move your luggage to your room?"

"That would be awesome," blue eyes answered again, and Alenko shifted his gaze questioningly to her. Their duffels weren't exactly heavy. Not that he was eager to move things to the bedroom, as it were, and he wasn't even sure if that's exactly what he had planned at all. Hell, he was just winging it, and he realized that he was winging it _terribly_ , because he was so used to thinking ahead that his impulsive actions had thrown his brain for a loop.

Other parts of him agreed wholeheartedly that what he was doing was awesome and he should stay the course. If blue eyes wanted their bags taken up, then she must be winging it herself, and he should just, for once, go with it.

Tel'sea called in a valet, who promptly relieved them of their belongings, including the jacket they'd used as a makeshift umbrella. They were unphased by the sheer dampness of the luggage, and soon their stuff was gone, on its way to their room.

Alenko had started to follow the valet, but blue eyes had a different idea. She tugged on his hand in the opposite direction, leading him to the patio that wrapped around the resort. She wasn't content to just stand near the ocean, however, instead running off (and pulling him along with her) to the pier that connected to the patio.

Waves crashed up and over the deck, pouring over their feet despite the added height the pier provided. His dark blue undershirt was clearly visible beneath his button-up light-blue flannel. Not that it surprised him, when he really thought about it, because the base of the shirt was white, and the fabric was a moderately thin linen. A light drizzle would have rendered it decently transparent. He'd already considered and discarded the notion of rolling the sleeves down. At this point, it wouldn't do any good. At least jeans weren't see through, he noted as he stole a glance at her rear, realizing for the first time just how toned it was. Considering she was military, that wasn't too surprising, either. But the fact that it was exceedingly well-toned was enough for him to immediately feel his arousal.

She stopped once she reached the end, but instead of standing still she immediately climbed onto the railing and sat down, feet hanging over the edge. She peered over her shoulder at him, motioning for him to come up and join her. Thankfully, the design was such that 'railing' was almost a misnomer, because the surface was approximately 2 feet wide. Plenty of room for moderately safe sitting.

"You're insane," he said as he plopped himself down next to her. She simply grinned, grasped his hand in hers, and rested her head on his shoulder.

After a few moments where he sat there, his cheek pressed against her damp hair and eyes closed, she turned to him. Her eyes were deep and serious. He could lose himself in them. "I'm glad I chose Trident."

His heart skipped a beat. Neither noticed that they moved closer together. "I'm glad we're not on the same posting."

This time both noticed their proximity. His lips were only inches from hers. He could feel her breath dancing against his skin. "I'm glad we're both single," she murmured.

He closed the gap in a rush of adrenaline, pressing his lips tentatively against hers. The kiss was soft at first, curious. After a moment of exploration where they both decided that it was good - no, great - it became altogether something else. He deepened the kiss and pulled her closer to him.

Her free hand slid up his forearm then moved to his waist. He voiced his pleasure into her mouth, and leaned into her as she grabbed a handful of his soaking shirt. It felt warm against the cool, wet fabric. He released her hand and slid his around her waist, sending shivers up her spine that he felt through the thin fabric of her tank top. Her flesh erupted in goosebumps.

The part of his brain that might normally protest under such rash actions had stalled, failing to shift gear properly when this new, impulsive side had suddenly sped off.

When he finally pulled away, his breath came out in ragged bursts. "We're both crazy."

His slid his hand around her neck and pressed his forehead against hers. She sighed contentedly. "Yeah," she breathed and shivers slid up his spine as her lips brushed delicately against his. "We are."

His impulsive streak took the lead. The cautious, controlled side of his brain absent-mindedly filed away the fact that, for a beginner, this new side was doing remarkably well given the circumstances. "We should really check out that room."

"Mmm," she agreed, lips pressing against his as she spoke, "Make sure it's properly set up, has a good view."

Delicious shivers cascaded through him as her lips teased his for the barest second. He sighed huskily, "Oh, it'll have a good view."

He had one second to register her eyes as they darkened mysteriously, before he was flung backwards in a haze of blue. The fact that she'd thrown him biotically, then adjusted his position with a delicate pull to keep him from falling before her lips crashed into his, hands splayed on either side of his head, had him reeling. God, she was amazing.

If this was what giving the galaxy the middle finger for three days constituted, he should do it more often.

The way she moved against him was too much for him to handle. In another display of rash action, he picked her up, swung his legs over the railing, shoved off, and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He had no idea where their room was, but that wasn't about to stop him from having fun. He set off at a quick trot...

...and nearly tripped when a hand slipped his shirt up and the other slipped beneath his belt-line.

"Mmmm," she voiced her approval as her hand slid from side to the other, his muscles flexing with each step. He could feel his cheeks burning, and welcomed every drop of rain that cooled their rapidly increasing temperature.

He used his biotics to open the door to the lobby, not wanting to stop even for a second in his quest to find the room. He blitzed through and quickly entered the elevator, checking the info on the room key before selecting the third floor. Suite 342.

She slid out of his grip and plopped onto the ground in front of him as soon as the doors closed and pushed him against the wall. She kissed him again, and he was stunned by how _right_ it felt, having her pressed against him, his arms wrapped firmly around her.

Or rather, they _would_ be if she weren't currently pinning him against the cool metal surface. She rolled her hips against him, and murmured in pleasure as she felt him firmly against her. He was officially at maximum arousal, and there was nothing he could do to hide it. As long as she remained where she was, even if he tried to calculate pi out to fifty decimal points, he'd still be as aroused as he was now. And from then on, he'd probably have very awkward erections whenever someone mentioned the number.

The elevator beeped all too soon, and he signed regretfully as she pulled away. But before she could fully get away, he tossed her back over his shoulder, one hand slipping up her inner thigh in what he would argue up to his final breath was simply for support, and had nothing to do with him returning the favor. Certainly his light kneading was just an added layer of support as he skimmed the panel in front of him, distracted enough that it took him three tries to understand that his room was to the _left_.

He fumbled at the door when he finally reached it as blue eyes took that moment to roll her hips in a rather delicious fashion that almost had him on his knees. He stumbled through and had barely shut the door before she slid down and wrapped her legs around his waist, her lips meeting his roughly, her need just as hot as his. He captured her wrists and pinned them above her head with his hands, intertwining his fingers with hers as he pressed her against the wall. She arched into him, and slid ever so slightly lower, and he groaned at the slight increase of pressure.

"I don't-" he continued kissing her, darting his tongue into her warm mouth, "even know-" she returned the gesture deliciously, "your name."

Her legs unwrapped from his waist and warm hands slid beneath his shirt, pulling the wet garment off. "You can call me Alexis."

"Just Alexis?" He breathed against her. He slid the strap of her tank-top off her shoulder.

She shivered. "Just Alexis."

Her lips crashed into his and she spun him against the wall. Raindrops beat against the window. "We should establish... mmm... ground rules."

His hands acted of their own volition and tore her shirt off her, revealing a pale blue bra. "No full names," she replied. His hands slid behind her and undid the clasp. "Keep it a fling."

"My first name's pretty unique," he answered huskily. Her small breasts broke free, and he felt warmth pool in the center of his belly, responding to the absolutely alluring site she presented.

She undid the buckle to his pants. "Guess we'll have to make one up."

He nuzzled her neck as she slid up his body. Her breasts teased against his chest. "Just you and me," he whispered into her ear. "No one else for three days."

She shivered as his hand grazed over her nipple. "Deal."

She removed his pants completely and he stepped out of them. "I'm not really looking for a relationship."

She shimmied out of her pants. She looked gorgeous, pale skin softly reflecting the waning light. "Neither am I."

"We're agreed then," he groaned and pulled Alexis close against him.

"This ends once shore leave ends," she breathed against his lips. Her hand dipped into his boxers.

"No strings attached." His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her petite panties and slid them over her curves. He could feel her pulse quicken against his chest.

"You still need a name." His boxers fell against his feet. "You ever watch Battlestar Galactica?"

His arousal peaked to new levels and he crushed his lips against hers. She moaned and melted into his arms as his tongue darted out and sought hers. Strong arms enveloped her, pulling her impossibly closer.

"I'll take that as a yes," she breathed once he released her and he grinned. A wicked smile danced at the corner of her lips. "You can be my Captain Apollo."

His world exploded in pleasure, senses overloading in blinding light when he finally pressed her firmly against the wall and she rolled onto him. For the first time, he let himself simply respond instead of controlling, and his body flared in tune with hers as they reached their first crescendo together, their biotic energy rippling along their limbs. He kissed her deeply as they peaked, light streaking across his vision, and lost himself in her.

He felt like he'd died and was brought back to life, blue eyes guiding him back to the precipice anew.


	2. Day Two

Staff Lieutenant Alexis Shepard rubbed her eyes sleepily, sunlight bombarding her face in a mildly pleasant yet annoying fashion. She hadn't slept this well in... well, ever, if she was going to be honest with herself. Certainly not since Mindoir, and definitely not after Elysium, though part of the reason for both incidents was the decidedly _loud_ ringing in her ears from all of the orbital strikes and buildings blowing up around her. Surviving Mindoir had been dumb luck combined with something that passed for decent enough instincts to keep her ass moving in a general 'away from the city' direction. While her survival instincts had told her to get her ass out of the city on Elysium, her military instincts had told her to hold the fucking line until Alliance reinforcements arrived and put a stop to the sheer number of missiles bombarding her general location and generally freaking out the civilians she'd managed to gather and form into some semblance of a squad, slightly increasing their chances that they just might survive long enough to see another day.

During the commendation ceremony when she'd been handed the Star of Terra, she'd been downright _grateful_ that the ringing in her ears prevented her from having to listen to the droning speeches from stuffy Admirals that barely knew her name, let alone why she deserved the damned medal they were giving her. Later, when she'd tossed on her bed for what felt like the millionth time that night, the ringing had just seemed rude, nevermind the fact that it prevented her from hearing the rather exuberant sounds coming from the apartment next to hers.

Both incidents had left her with enough material to form truly brutal nightmares that prevented her from sleeping more than three hours at any given time without bolting awake, some half-formed sentence on her lips. Which, all things considered, she was ok with because taking a walk in the middle of 'night' while on tour was a good time to think.

_This_ thinking though was just as a good, if not better than previous examples of the activity. She could lay here all day, savoring the warmth of the blankets, remembering the incredible night she'd just experienced with the incredible 'Captain Apollo.'

If she'd known what being with a biotic truly entailed, she would have made more of an effort to seek one out prior to this, not that she'd actively sought out men to date or have three day, passion filled flings with in the first place. Though something told her it was more about him and less about the amazing biotic prowess he'd demonstrated.

He probably killed on the field with that kind of accuracy and control, not to mention his undeniable feel for rhythm. For a tiny second, she wished that they were on the same posting, if only so she could see him employ his accuracy, control, and rhythm against the various baddies that dared to impede him from completing his mission. She had a feeling that when he was in armor and in the thick of things, he was officially in his element.

No surprise then that he didn't compromise on the military thing.

She'd given up trying to date years ago, despite only being 25 and told repeatedly by her friends that she had plenty of time to find that one, amazing guy who would completely rock her world, and not just in a physical sense. Some guy who was just gonna come along one day and the idea that he was 'the one' would slap her stupid in the face within days of meeting him, complete with weak knees, gibbering, and excessive thoughts of his qualities.

Yeah, right. And the batarians had 'accidentally' hit Elysium with their missiles, bullets, and otherwise offensive cargo.

Having officially lain in bed for no less than ten minutes without once opening her eyes or doing anything that could remotely be mistaken for responsible, she realized that she was in the bed by herself, the shower wasn't running, and she couldn't hear any of the typical sounds humans made as they moved around. Despite the fact that her senses told her she was currently alone in the shared hotel room, she was decently sure that he hadn't split and run, because it didn't seem like something that he would do. Her brain tried to rationalize the fact that she'd only known him less than a day, therefore it had every right to denounce his character until he returned and explained himself, until the worst most uptight drill sergeant accepted his supplied reasons as sufficient evidence that he was not, in fact, a jerk. Some other part of her won the argument, insisting that up till this moment he'd displayed uncharacteristic chivalry, honor, and awesomeness (especially in bed, though significantly less chivalry was employed there coupled with significantly more awesome). So for now, she was content to wait, lazily wrapped in the soft linen sheets, 'cause damned if she was going to get up on time while on shore leave.

Trident didn't seem like a place for slavers to hit for a raid, considering it was 95% ocean. Probably why (and how he'd guessed it, she'd never know) the largest circle on her dartboard had been labelled 'Trident,' while all the others had been labelled 'stay at Arcturus, because you're fucking jinxed.'

A soft hiss greeted her ears, and was soon accompanied by the tell-tale footsteps of bare-feet. She was unable to resist the smile that blossomed on her lips. If she wasn't so busy feeling all warm and fuzzy that he'd returned, her brain might have muttered darkly about being wrong this time. Instead, she peeked open an eye and was greeted with the most amazing sight: a tray piled with enough food to feed a small army, a small coffee pot with two cups, and Apollo's soft, almost timid smile as she sat up, the sheet falling away from her bare form.

He sat the tray down in between them, folded himself onto the bed across from her, and poured her a cup of coffee.

"Is it impolite to drink first, then kiss you for being amazing?"

He handed her the cup of coffee and she pulled it to her face and closed her eyes. "Not at all," he replied. "Though to be sure, we can consult the big book of regs."

"Section D-15, subsection 147-a: standard protocol for displays of appreciation."

"No, 147-a is how to deal with belligerently drunk krogan on genophage day. You want 14 _6_ -a."

She grinned deviously at him. "I'm sure some things carry over."

He arched an eyebrow at that, and she successfully resisted the sudden urge to fling the tray of food to the side, throw both their cups of coffee to the ground, and pounce him, because it wasn't fair for a man to look that good just arching an eyebrow. Something from her thoughts must have flashed over her face, because he smirked at her and said, "I'd suggest gently _lifting_ the tray of food instead of flinging it, despite how much fun that would be."

"You're killing me."

"Just minor torturing. Nothing that would cause death."

God, he was amazing.

This time she didn't resist the urge to pounce him, though she did it in a far more delicate fashion, ensuring that she didn't upset either the tray of delicious food or their respective cups of coffee. She plopped herself right in his lap, smiled happily at him, and retrieved a muffin from the unscathed tray. "How's this for torture?"

He flushed a light pink, which she found endearing and so planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"It's pretty effective, but as long as there's a reward at the end, it's worth it."

She almost gave him his reward on the spot, but her stomach chose that moment to growl traitorously. He smiled at her, removed the muffin from her hands, and raised it to her lips. She met his eyes with a small smile and took a small bite. His amber eyes flashed darkly and she wiggled further down onto his lap. A husky noise escaped his throat and he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her even closer.

She abandoned the muffin and their empty cups fell to the floor. His clothes soon joined the cups in their exile, and she lost herself in him. Strong arms wrapped around her, situating her on him with her knees on either side of his hips. One hand rested in the small curve of her back, guiding her as she gripped his shoulders, tilting her head back. Pleasure flooded through her like liquid warmth, setting fire to her soul. His other hand tangled in her hair and her name crossed his lips as they climaxed together in a soft whisper, almost like a prayer, lips brushing the tender spot of her neck.

A while later as she lay on top of him, listening to his heartbeat while he lightly stroked her back, she mused that if there was such a thing as bliss, she was pretty sure she'd found it right here, next to him. She was once against startled by how _right_ this felt, how completely not weird it was to feel this close to someone she'd known all of eighteen hours.

She'd definitely gotten to _know_ him.

She was only slightly concerned that this had felt more like making love and less like having a _really good time_ , and brushed it off as an overpowering sexual attraction because he was a _god_ in bed.

She sighed contentedly as his fingers brushed against the back of her neck, right below the base of her implant. She'd noticed last night that his was a different make from hers, which meant he was probably an L2. For one thing, his implant was flush against his skin, whereas hers protruded ever so slightly, almost as if a metallic bouncy ball had been installed at the base of neck. Shortly after the 'rescue' on Mindoir, she'd displayed biotic aptitude in a spectacular shouting match with some desk-jockey who wanted to push her immediately into foster care, nevermind the fact that she'd just lost her entire family along with everyone she knew and really just needed someone to talk to. His face had turned a vibrant shade of purple, then blanched white as a sheet when she'd flared. The small act had startled the shit out of both of them.

The Alliance moved her to a government boarding school after that incident, and she'd gotten one good, smug look at the red-faced jackass before being relocated. By the time they'd gotten around to implanting her, the L3's were solidly on the market and L2's with severe side effects were being retrofitted.

She'd suspected he was older than she was, but the implant served as confirmation that he was at least three years older. The L2's had been shut down alongside BAaT.

Aw hell, if he was an L2, there was a high chance that he'd been at BAaT. She shuddered at the idea of being in that hell-hole, and counted herself lucky that she'd been a colony kid. Well, lucky insofar as BAaT was concerned. The horror stories at the boarding school had been the stuff of nightmares.

She raised her head and looked up at him with a tender expression, her eyes sad. His hand tightened on her shoulder and she dropped a kiss on his before enveloping him in a hug.

This time, she purposefully made love to him, gently caressing him as he moved inside her while ignoring inner protests that she if she wasn't careful she'd find herself getting attached, because for the tiniest fraction of a second when she'd looked up at him, he'd had a haunted expression deep in his amber eyes. Right now, she didn't care. She wanted him to know she didn't think he was a freak just because he sported different hardware. She kept a slow, deliberate pace, measured by their breaths, staring deep into his eyes as they slowly, gently came.

He rested his forehead against hers, shaky breath dancing across her lips, and crushed her in a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight, tucking his head beneath hers, limbs entangled. She lost track of time as they laid there, gently massaging the back of his neck because she'd heard horrific stories of some L2's suffering from horrendous migraines simply because of how the implant rested against the nerves. Whether or not he did didn't matter, because the soft nuzzling accompanied by said massaging was wonderful. Not for a new gun and the latest omni-tool would she should give this up.

He slid up her body and came to rest on his side, one hand splayed on her hip while the other supported his head just above the pillow. She rotated to meet him, resting her hand on his chest, and they lay there like that for a while, simply looking at each other.

A niggling worry that she was veering towards the path of making herself into a giant fool whispered in the back of mind, but she shut the voice down with a firm stomp of a metaphorical boot. The hand moved up her side and came to rest just behind her ear, gently stroking her hair. She briefly wondered if this technically counted as breaking their informal third rule of 'no strings attached' because if she had her way right now, they'd stay on this bed and live out the rest of their lives.

Well, she qualified silently to herself, as long as she still got to go outside and shoot things, because she wasn't willing to compromise on the military thing either.

"We should think about maybe vacating this room in favor of sandier, sunnier locations." His fingers trailed a thoughtful pattern over the fantastically gruesome scar she'd earned from a particularly nasty piece of shrapnel when a missile blew up a skyscraper less than fifty meters away from her position and she'd thrown a young boy who couldn't have been older than 15 behind her. The resulting shockwave had knocked her on her ass, but only _after_ a shard of broken metal scored a lucky hit as she'd prioritized shielding her face and the boy from the explosion. Skyscraper, one; Shepard, zero.

Fortunately she'd scrounged a tube of medigel from the smoking remnants of a clinic prior to that mess and quickly applied copious amounts of the goo to the wound, talked the kid down through his freak out session while compartmentalizing and filing away her own, then directed him on the how to's of field dressing a wound so she wouldn't bleed out and leave them both screwed.

Not long after that, she'd found a location where civilians were holed up, dropped the kid off, ensured the perimeter was as secure as it could be when shit was blowing up in every direction, and left to complete her mission objective: secure the comm tower and get communications back online. Secondary mission objective was to figure out why the goddamn GARDIAN's weren't firing and, if possible, get them firing. Preferably at the batarians on automated defense controls, though manual fire would work just as well so long as there were enough capable personnel to run them.

She hated relying on civilians, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Worst case scenario, she'd have to give a 30 second crash course on how to not blow yourself up while operating the GARDIAN control board.

She wasn't entirely clear on _when_ she'd sustained that injury. The memories of Elysium were jumbled into a series of small fragments. Some parts she remembered with perfect clarity. Like when she'd managed to secure the comm tower against the batarians and get the communications grid back online. Slavers had already infiltrated the lower levels, killed all the personnel (or caged them), and locked out the network. She'd blown her amp in the process of taking back the tower when no fewer than fifteen batarians cornered her someone's office and shot the hell out of it, effectively leaving her no choice but to fling one biotic attack after another because her ammo block had run out. She remembered a white-hot searing pain before she blacked out. Fortunately, all hostiles were neutralized. When she'd woken up, she removed the faulty device, swallowed another freak out session, and cleaned the dead batarians of their ammo supply.

Good thing she'd already started down the special forces path and ranked as an N3 during the Blitz and therefore didn't have to rely solely on her biotics. She'd still sustained two bullet wounds (neither serious, though her brain argued at the time that _any_ puncturing wound was fucking serious and she should really rethink her line of work) and one stab wound from a lucky throw of a dagger before she made it the network control room.

If he kept looking, he'd find the two small circles on her right thigh from the bullets, and a two inch slit on her lower back, just above her kidney from the knife.

"Shrapnel," she provided.

He frowned and drew his finger up the full length of the jagged white line before pressing a kiss against it.

She wanted to tell him how she got it, but that would definitely violate the first rule: no full names. And saying, 'Hey, remember the Blitz? 'Course you do, every Alliance soldier knows about the Blitz and that Alex Shepard held the fucking line. With all those buildings blowing up around me, I was bound to get hit by something. Really, it's amazing I don't have _more_ shrapnel wounds than I do.' She could have kicked herself right now, because really, what was the problem with him knowing her whole name?

...Aside from the fact that she'd set the rule in the first place _specifically_ so they wouldn't get attached. Hindsight was a bitch, because she realized _names_ didn't matter. If her heart wanted to get attached, it damn well would regardless of whether or not it knew his name.

"Shower?" she asked.

His dark eyes slid up from examining the scar to her eyes, and he smiled. "Shower."

-A-

"I thought L3's were supposed to spike _lower_ than L2's," Apollo grunted from across from her.

She could feel his biotic energy rippling around him, flaring to compete with hers. Honestly, she was practically at her own limit and thought she'd been struggling to keep up with him. She couldn't believe she'd agreed to this.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about dynamite," she frowned as her tower toppled over, fortunately away from the sand castle she was attempting to construct. The urge to use her hands was overpowering. She wasn't any good with micro and was now woefully paying the price. Unless it helped to blow shit up in exceedingly creative fashions, she ignored the micro applications of biotics. She could pick stuff up just fine, but manipulating fields to gently form the delicate shapes of sand castles with the fickle material was _hard_.

"Stay the fuck away from it?" he supplied. She shot him a withering glare but he only smiled and leaned back on his heels. "What do you say we call this a tie?"

Alexis examined the two sand castles. Fuck, if he wanted to call it a tie, she'd let him because his sand castle was a hell of a lot nicer than hers. She winced at her dumpy one and promised herself that she'd put more of an effort into practicing smaller field manipulations. "Deal."

With a sweep of her hand she obliterated both castles, which caused him to laugh. In a surge of belligerence, she scooped a giant ball of sand and dumped it over him. _That_ should teach him to laugh at her.

Her grin had only just started to spread across her lips when her world was suddenly inverted and she went flying straight into him and the giant ball of sand. Goddamn he was good! Well, hell if she was gonna go down without a fight.

She shoved him down into the sand with a push as more fell around them from her giant ball. He grunted and recaptured her in a pull and wriggled her beneath him. She found herself unceremoniously trapped and so did the only thing that came to mind: _buried_ both of them in a ton of sand. She might not be good with micro, but lifting and manipulating large objects was something she did exceedingly well.

The sand exploded away from them and she blinked up at him and had a fraction of a second to register his devious smirk before his lips met hers in a hungry kiss.

She counted that as a tie, too.

Before they gave any onlookers an altogether different kind of show, he broke off the kiss. She sighed regretfully and wished she could tell what he was thinking as she examined the slight furrow of his brow, the almost unnoticeable downturn to his mouth, and the way his eyes didn't quite meet hers. They were shrouded in mystery, and she wanted to unravel their secrets.

"This would have gone great with your castle," he said, digging his hand behind her. He revealed a flat, semi-transparent sea-shell that looked almost like a large clamshell from Earth. It rippled in waves of blue and green, reflecting translucently in the sunlight.

"I think you're mistaken," she replied as she accepted the proffered gift. She ran her fingers along the ridges. "It's way too beautiful for my castle. The villagers would have revolted, wondering which kingdom I'd pissed off to acquire something so nice. Within days, my head would be on a pike, the monarchy would be destroyed, and the treasonous bastards would have set up a democracy. My name would be used to frighten small children into their beds."

"'Alexis' doesn't exactly invoke terror," he mused. "Besides, _my_ kingdom would make a public announcement that the shell was a gift of friendship, and your insubordinate villagers would believe me since my castle was actually cool looking."

"Your castle was _destroyed_. Viciously. And with much glee."

He shook his head sagely. "After we signed a peace treaty, too."

"No wonder the treasonous bastards put my head on a pike. I can't be trusted."

"In that case, let this stand as a monument to the terrible tragedy that has befallen us."

She raised the seashell to her eyes. She could almost make out his expression behind the ripples of blue and green, but he was still mostly a dark shadow through the material. She smiled at him, watching the light play through the shell as she twisted it back and forth. It glittered.

"Have you ever gone sailing?" she asked him, peering through the seashell.

He rolled off her and pulled her up. "A few times, yeah."

Her eyes gleamed as she looked at him, the excitement evident in her expectant smile. "We should take advantage of this spectacular weather and go sailing."

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're going to want to pull your hair back, then."

Of all the days to leave her hair-ties back in the room. Well, there was no way she was walking back just for a circular band. She improvised with her blue scarf and tied her hair up. She briefly wondered if the long tails on either side of her makeshift ponytail would get in her face, but ultimately decided it didn't matter. "Done."

Forty-five minutes and one sail-boat rental later, they were out on the open waters. Apollo had done his best to give her quick instructions on how to handle the sailboat, and she'd done her best to pay attention, which was rather difficult considering that when he started talking seriously about the ins and outs of sailing, he'd been so adorable that thoughts of tearing off his clothes and kissing him furiously kept intruding. She was pretty sure he'd caught onto what she was thinking, because he'd blushed a light pink which only served to make him _more_ adorable, if that was possible, but kept on instructing. Somehow, she'd learned enough for him to let her handle the navigation until he realized that she was a particularly adventurous sort of crazy.

She'd tried to see just how small of an eight she could make.

After much wrestling, he'd taken back control, set the sails for a gentler ride, and pulled her onto his lap. She was content to sit there, even if it meant not doing crazy-ass maneuvers, because he was warm. She could live with that so long as she got to continue sitting in this spot with his arms wrapped around her in this delicious fashion.

It'd been a long time since she felt genuinely safe. As the sun began to set in the distance, she closed her eyes and just let herself be. For the first time since she was sixteen, she realized she didn't just feel safe, she felt as if she belonged, in the truest sense of the word.

He brushed his hand against her cheek and rotated her ever so slightly, and ever so gently, to face him.

This, she decided as she gazed into his warm amber eyes, was bliss.

He pressed a soft kiss against her lips, tender in the way his tongue grazed lightly against hers, warm in the way he held her. His free hand hooked around the small of her back, slipping beneath her shirt. He slowly undressed her, removing each garment reverently, as if what he might find underneath was the most precious thing in the world. She stripped him with the same care, kissing each limb as it was revealed, before sliding up next to him. Her lips met his with a soft embrace that was no less passion-filled for the slow rhythm in which they kissed each other.

He seemed content to simply trace every aspect of her curves with his hands, and she was content to let him. She'd never felt more like a goddess than she did now, feeling his powerful, rough hands memorize every tiny part of her body. When he finally lowered her to the deck and they made love once more, she realized she'd very much broken the foundation of the third rule, wanted nothing more than to break the first rule, and could not even conceive of breaking the second rule.

His name crossed her lips multiple times as he moved within her, and she buried her face in his neck as she peaked anew. His arms pulled her impossibly closer, holding her flush against him, where she belonged.

The whole day, she'd gotten it wrong. It wasn't sitting in his lap, staring deep into his amber eyes, or laying his chest while he stroked gentle lines up and down her back, listening to his heartbeat that had been bliss.

_He_ was.


	3. Day Three

As Kaidan Alenko navigated the aircar into the spaceport return lot, he was very much aware that he’d broken the third rule, and he’d broken it _hard_. 

The previous day, he’d suspected that maybe he wasn’t being entirely wise in regards to his actions, but figured that with only one day left, there really wasn’t _time_ to get attached. The little voice in the back of his head had muttered that he was being stupid, and that one _hour_ was enough time for someone to get attached. It had heard of the concept of ‘love at first sight’ and while it wasn’t entirely sure that existed, it recognized that there was _something_ to those words, otherwise the phrase wouldn’t have propagated throughout human culture over the centuries and been the basis for countless romance novels. 

Still, as he’d fallen asleep last night, gently stroking her hair and listening to her deep, even breaths, one delicately pale hand resting on his on his waist, he’d managed to convince himself that what he felt was merely a _crush_ because she was just that amazing.

That notion had been shot to hell when he’d woken up with his arms around her, her head tucked between his shoulder and neck and he’d realized that this was the last time he’d wake up with her in his arms. That seemingly small revelation left him with an overwhelming sense of sadness, and he could no longer plausibly deny that he’d begun to feel something real for her. So instead of doing the gentlemanly thing and extricating himself from her to go search for breakfast, he’d held onto her tighter, dropped a kiss on her forehead, and began the delicate process of smoothing her hair ever so gently. 

He wanted to memorize ever tiny feature of her face, imperfections and all, because they were _her._

He’d lain there for thirty minutes, simply looking at her and holding her before she’d murmured softly and her eyes fluttered open. She’d arched her back in a small stretch then wrapped her arms around him and sighed contentedly, her fingers playing small patterns on his skin. 

The seemingly insignificant realization that this was infinitely better than mere sex ever could be struck him dumb. That’s when he realized he’d broken the third rule. No, _shattered_ it.

When he made love to her for the final time, his overwhelming sadness set the tempo to the beat of his heart, the sad whispers of goodbye of his soul. He realized the walls he’d so carefully constructed to protect himself had fallen down in response to her soft smile, the overwhelming warmth of her presence. He kept the pace slow, measured, and she’d wrapped her legs around his hips, meeting his every movement with a gentle sway. It hadn’t been enough for him. He needed to feel her around him, on him, _with_ him. 

What he couldn’t tell her with his words he wanted to tell her with his body. 

So he’d lifted her gently with his biotics until she was straddling him, legs wrapped around him even tighter as he pressed her against the wall. He kissed her as he flared, brighter than ever before. Her fingers left burning trails up his arms as she flared brightly in tune with him, their energy melding together with perfect harmony. 

When they’d both found their release, he still didn’t put her down, and she made no move to break free. 

Instead, he carried her to the shower, his eyes never leaving hers even as he turned the water on. Her blue eyes were shrouded in mystery, gazing up at him. As the water began to fall through her hair, he pressed another kiss against her lips, savoring the taste of her, and she began moving again, flaring almost as soon as she started. He situated his hand on her rear and pulled her up with each thrust. She cried out into his mouth and he fell against her when he came again, murmuring her name fervently even as he kissed her. 

When she’d finally slid down, he trailed kisses down her chest until he reached her navel, gently massaging her inner thighs. She murmured into the air, water streaming down her pale skin, as he kissed even lower. Her legs shook against him as he slowly increased the tempo and she slid down the wall, supported only by his arms. Fingers curled into his hair and waves of energy rippled over her. She shuddered and pulled him up, knees buckling beneath her as she leaned into him. 

They made love until the water ran cold, until they couldn’t possibly stand for a moment longer. They collapsed together on the bed and he held her in his arms, too afraid to speak. Too afraid that the words he’d say would reveal him for a fool. 

It was fitting that it was pouring down rain again, just as it had been when he met her. 

Was it selfish to want to amend their agreement? He sighed. Probably. Besides, he was the idiot who, despite knowing the ground rules going in, had decided to fall in love anyway.

“That’s me,” she said, staring off at the transport shuttle in the distance. It, unfortunately, wasn’t him. His shuttle didn’t leave till that evening, and that was because he was stopping at Earth before returning to Arcturus. He wanted to ask where she was going, but wasn’t sure if that would be considered breaking the rules. 

“How long?”

She checked her omni-tool. “Fifteen minutes.”

He didn’t know what to say. ‘Thanks for the good time?’ Crass, and a massive understatement at that. ‘I’ll never forget you?’ Cliché. And while true, the words didn’t carry the full weight of what he felt behind them. A lot of people were unforgettable, and not all for good reasons. She was unforgettable in the sense that no one would ever compare to her. No one could.

She was the most amazing person he’d ever met, and he was finding it difficult to let her walk away. He didn’t _want_ to let her walk away, but he didn’t know what else to do. His impulsive streak was struggling to keep up with _this_ , because it decided that committing to white picket fences and dreams of being together forever was decidedly _not_ impulsive, so the controlled, cautious part of him would have to make up its damned mind. And fuck him if the controlled, cautious part decided that siding with the rules was the way to go, because it’s what he agreed to do from the get go. And fuck him if he thought the controlled, cautious part of him would let him live this down, either. In the future, it’d point to this moment and say, ‘This. This is the reason why we’re not impulsive, Alenko, you sappy, romantic sonofabitch.’

He turned to look at her and found her staring at her knees. “I guess I should get going, huh?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say ‘fuck the rules.’ He wanted to say a million different things, ranging from ‘stay here with me’ to ‘come with me to Vancouver.’ He wanted to stick out his hand, see the devious little glimmer in her eye and say, ‘Hi, my name is Kaidan Alenko and I’d very much like to date you.’ He wanted to tell her that he was falling for her, harder than he’d ever fallen before, faster than he thought was possible, and the brakes on his heart were broken because he didn’t see him stopping anytime soon.

Instead he said nothing, frozen to his seat. The fact that he was the idiot who’d had a change of heart was clearly making this awkward for her. “Yeah.. yeah, I- I guess so.”

She finally raised her eyes to meet his. He wanted to kiss her, but knew that if he did, he’d never stop. Not for a new amp and the latest omni-tool upgrade would he stop. 

Not for his own solar system would he stop.

Her fingers laced through his, blue eyes deep pools. A man could lose himself in those eyes. Surely the sadness he thought he glimpsed in them was just a reflection of his own desires. 

“I guess this is goodbye.”

He squeezed her hand and frowned thoughtfully at her knuckles. “I guess so.”

She crushed him in a hug and he pulled her closer, wrapping an arm fiercely around her neck as he buried his face in her hair. He felt like someone was ripping his heart out slowly while at the same time reveling in how _wonderful_ it felt to have her arms wrapped around him, to hold her close, to feel her.

He was on the cusp of speaking, deciding to throw caution to the wind and tell her that he didn’t want this to end, didn’t want her to leave, when she whispered raggedly, “Goodbye,” and tore out of the cab faster than a salarian on speed.

He watched her dash to the transport, duffel held aloft over her head, and glance back once before disappearing into the shuttle. He lowered his head to the dash and rapped it a couple of times, eyes squeezed shut. When he finally opened them, something blue caught his attention.

Her scarf. He sat up and picked the soft fabric up, running it between his fingers. It smelled faintly like her shampoo. He clenched into his fist and stared at her shuttle, torn between wanting to run after her and listening to the rational part of his brain that argued against such rash actions.

Then her shuttle began pulling out.

It occurred to him as he sat there, watching her shuttle take off, that perhaps the reason she’d hastily exited the aircar wasn’t because she didn’t like goodbyes, but maybe because she’d felt the same way he did.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Now all he had aside from his broken heart was the blue scarf she’d used to tie her hair back when they went sailing. A lump rose high in his throat, and he choked back the building ball of regret that was beginning to fill him faster than a fully automatic rifle could burn through a clip. 

He should have gone after her.

-A-

Alexis Shepard, for the first time in her life, was a goddamned coward. She shut her omni-tool off after answering his inquiry and stared at her knees.

She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes right now. She didn’t know what she’d say. 

Or rather, she knew _exactly_ what she’d say, starting with, ‘I don’t want to leave’ and ending with, ‘I think I’m in love with you.’ Maybe if she was brave she’d even tell him that impossibly, she’d just been smacked stupid in the face, complete with weak knees, gibbering, and excessive thoughts of his qualities because she’d been stupid enough to fall in love. She wasn’t ready for this to end.

When they’d collapsed on the bed, wet and tired, she’d never felt more alive, never felt more ravished, and had certainly never felt more safe or loved. It was as if her body knew this was the end, that this was goodbye, and so wanted to soak up every last moment it could.

Within minutes, she’d trailed kisses down his chest and felt him press against her. She kissed down the small line of hair that led to his belly button and below. Then she kissed _him_ , slow and warm, feeling him shiver in response to her touch. His husky gasp sent chills up her spine. She could feel his muscles flexing beneath her, wanting to respond, and so she encouraged him with gentle caresses. He’d panted her name, then again more breathily. By the third time, she’d recognized that he was trying to let her know he was close.

He was such a gentleman.

She kept her pace and soon he flared, the energy hot against her skin.

Long after they were truly spent, she couldn’t stop feeling his skin, memorizing every small detail simply because it was _him._ She wanted to ask him about the scars on his lips, the series of jagged white lines on his ribs. She wanted to ask him his name. 

“I guess I should get going, huh?” she whispered. She didn’t trust herself to speak any louder for fear of the tremble giving her away.

She could feel his eyes on her, probably wondering what the fuck her problem was, because she was making this more awkward than it needed to be. They _both_ knew this was coming, yet here she was, stalling, trying to muster the courage to tell him that he’d changed life in ways she never thought possible, and failing. 

“Yeah.. yeah, I- I guess so,” his voice was husky and for a tiny second hope flared in her. She looked at up at him and found his amber eyes staring thoughtfully at her. 

But then she stalled. Again. 

She wanted to kiss him, but knew that if she did, she’d never stop. The world could come crashing down around her, and she wouldn’t care. When his lips met hers, the world shrank down to the space they occupied. Nothing else existed. 

Instead, she laced her fingers through his. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as his thumb ran gently over her knuckles. 

“I guess this is goodbye.”

He squeezed her hand. “I guess so.”

Before she could stop herself, she crushed him in a hug. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and she was once again struck dumb by the realization that she felt safe, that she felt like she was _home._ Was it possible for one person to alter the heading of another’s life so drastically? She buried her face in his neck, clutching him even tighter, trying to muster the smallest seed of bravery... and failing. She didn’t want to be rebuffed. She was the idiot who, despite knowing the ground rules going in, had decided to fall in love anyway.

He was the most amazing person she’d ever met. And she was about to walk away from him. She didn’t want to, but she didn’t know what else to do. He’d reminded her what it was like to be loved, to be with someone who didn’t see a label, just the person. He was the only person to look at her scars and be sad, instead of telling her she kicked ass. He was the only person to not shy away from her as soon as he saw her headjack.

Love, one; Shepard, zero. 

Tears stung at the corner of her eyes as emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She whispered a hasty, “Goodbye,” and tore out of the cab, not wanting him to see just how much of a fool she was for breaking the third rule and dreaming of a future with white picket fences and true love.

Rain mixed with her tears as she ran, half afraid that he’d run after her, half afraid that he wouldn’t. She paused at the transport and looked back one more time. He hadn’t left and she found herself caught, bravery suddenly finding embers in her heart with which to fuel itself. She could run back to him. She still had time, it wasn’t too late. She teetered on the edge. She wanted nothing more than to run up to him, stick out her hand with a devilish grin and say, ‘Hi, I’m Alexis Shepard, and I’d very much like to date you.’ 

“Your I.D., ma’am?” an attendant tapped her on the shoulder, clearly annoyed that he’d had to step out into the rain to get her attention.

Suddenly deflated, she turned and scanned her I.D. 

As the shuttle was taking off, she realized that all she had now was a broken heart and the blue-green seashell he’d given her, resting in her pocket. She pulled it out and fingered the ridges, tears brimming in her eyes.

She should have gone after him.


	4. April 4, 2182

Lieutenant-Commander Alexis Shepard nailed her target right in the head from a distance of two hundred meters. 

“If you’d only employed that kind of dedication and focus to your date last night with what’s-his-face-”

“-Kyle-”

“-Kyle, from the SSV...”

Alexis rolled her shoulders irritably. “- _Midway_.”

“...Then you wouldn’t be sitting her, practicing sniping skills you’ll probably never employ on the field, despite the N7 logo streaking down your arm.”

Alexis scoped her target, pulled the trigger, and lowered the rifle before sparing a withering glance for Lorrie. The engineer shrugged at her, suggesting she was a lost cause. “Kyle didn’t have it.”

“Define ‘it.’”

_Crack!_ “You know what I mean, Lor.”

Lorrie sighed and took the rifle from her, lining up her own shot. “You can’t keep comparing every guy to him.”

Alexis unzipped her N7 hoodie, but didn’t remove it. “Sure I can.” She picked up the shotgun on the table next to them and examined its settings. Standard Alliance issue crap. She much preferred her heavily modified Eviscerator. But for practice, this would suffice. “Besides,” _boom!_ “It keeps me,” _boom!_ “Focused.”

“Heya, Shepard!” a voice hollered from across the shooting range. A tall, blonde-haired marine strode towards them, deftly maneuvering between the throng of those waiting for a lane to clear. Tom made a rather crude gesture as soon as he was within range and she flipped him off before turning back to the target. 

“Better watch it today, pal,” Lorrie warned him as he flung himself onto the bench behind them. 

“Old age got her wired?”

“I’m only 28, shithead.” She tossed the shotgun onto the table. 

Tom winked at her before picking up the assault rifle. “You know, most girls I know wouldn’t spend their birthdays on the shooting range.”

“Most girls you know don’t know how to handle a _gun_ ,” she retorted. “Besides, I couldn’t go anywhere if I wanted to. Captain Anderson requested my presence at some meeting or other later this week.”

“Just make sure you’re open tonight,” Lorrie replied. “Drinks are on me.”

“Mine, too?” Tom asked in between short, controlled bursts of assault rifle fire. 

He would never admit it to her or anyone, but he totally had a thing for Lorrie. Too bad Lorrie was completely blind, or didn’t want to settle down. Maybe both. Alexis didn’t doubt for a second that Tom would leave service to be with Lorrie if that’s what it took. 

“The _first_ round.”

He passed the rifle to Lorrie and gave her a winning smile. “Good enough for me.”

Tom flung himself onto the bench next to her. She bumped her shoulder into his and rolled her eyes dramatically at Lorrie. He punched her in the arm.

“Hey, how’d that date go last night?” He asked her. Lorrie emptied the clip until the heatsink kicked in.

She grimaced, but Lorrie answered for her, tossing the rifle back to Tom. “It _didn’t._ ”

“Maybe next time you shouldn’t chauffeur,” he quipped. “Alexis is a big girl.”

“Ha ha,” she replied.

Tom looked back over his shoulder, some glib remark on his tongue, but it died away as something caught his attention. “Hey, I think see my friend comin’ in. You guys mind if he joins us?”

Alexis shrugged. “The more, the merrier.”

“Awesome.” He slung the rifle back onto the table and Lorrie stepped in. Alexis simply leaned back on the bench and took a swig from her water bottle. “Kaidan!” Tom bellowed, startling the shit out of her. She kicked him as he ran past her.

“I swear he was meant to be a drill sergeant,” she muttered darkly. 

“So,” Lorrie said, aiming her SMG, “what makes ‘Apollo’ so goddamned special that no guy compares?”

A short burst of fire escaped the gun and Alexis leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees. “You know how sometimes you meet someone and you just know you’re in for the ride of your life? Someone that maybe at first glance, they seem just like everyone else, talk like everyone else, but when they look at you, a part of you knows that if you’re crazy enough, you’re life will change in ways you never thought possible. You know that he’s the best thing that will ever happen to you. And maybe, if you’re brave enough...” she faltered.

Lorrie peered over her shoulder at Alexis. Fuck, she’d never been _that_ forthcoming before. 

Was it crazy that after three years she was still in love with the same guy from Trident? Probably. She hung her head, wrapping her hands behind her neck as she stared at her lap. There weren’t many L2’s in the Alliance, but fuck her if most of them didn’t have unique names. Something about the crash over Singapore back on Earth a long time ago. Just her luck, too. 

What would she even say if she found him? She’d had years to think of the perfect response... and her mind still came up blank. A thousand things would cross her mind in an instant. Intense embarrassment, overwhelming shyness, but most of all an overpowering sense of no longer being lost, because wherever _he_ was was home. 

She fingered the seashell in her pocket. The ridges had long since smoothed over from her constant handling. But the shimmer was still there.

So was the memory of him, amber eyes peering at her over the rim of the shell, the sun a halo behind him.

If she had a time machine, she’d go back to that moment where she hesitated on the brink of entering the shuttle and kick her own ass back out into the rain. And if her past self refused to leave, she’d blow the damned shuttle up giving her no other option _but_ to run back to him and confess. 

“I’ll find him,” she vowed to herself, the words a whisper. If it took the rest of her life, she’d find him. And when she found him, she’d let him know that he was the only to ever break through the walls she so carefully constructed to protect herself. 

“Oh shit, Alexis...” Lorrie’s voice interrupted her musings.

“What?”

“Reporter, coming in fast.”

Her head bolted up, honing in on the camera crew crossing the deck. Not now. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she hissed as she stood up. “Tell Tom I’m sorry I had to bail.” Lorrie nodded at her. “Hopefully his friend won’t think I’m an unrelenting jackass.”

“One smart comment and I’ll shoot him.” Lorrie tapped her chin with her forefinger. “In the foot.”

Alexis spared a grin for Lorrie before taking off. She was a really good friend. Sarcastic, sometimes crude, but great nonetheless.

“Commander Shepard!” 

Time to run! She hauled ass out of the shooting range, marines parting for her swiftly. That was one of the great things about marines. All of them hated the damned media.

-A-

Recently promoted Staff-Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko wasn’t sure what to do with the rest of his day. The _Midway_ left dock tomorrow, and he’d be back on duty heading out to the traverse. Listening Post Delta had reported an increase in activity through the relay in their system. Alliance High Command deemed that suspicious enough to warrant an investigation.

But for now, he had the day to himself. He just wasn’t sure what to do with it.

His omni-tool pinged. _Tom: Hey, I’m heading to the range on B-Deck. Want to join?_

Well, that solved his current dilemma. He typed out a quick response and changed into his off-duty uniform. With a sentimental rush, he transferred the small blue scarf into his pocket, but not before running it through his fingers. The smell of her shampoo had long since faded from it and the fabric was worn, but it was the only thing he had of _her._

There were no fewer than thirteen marines named ‘Alexis’ that were also biotics. That included the infamous Commander Shepard, though most media outlets referred to her as ‘Alex’ so he rather discounted the possibility that she was _his_ Alexis. 

Besides, he didn’t need famous and kick-ass. He just needed _her._ If she was only a Private Second Class, he’d still love her.

_Tom: Cool, I’ll grab a lane. See ya in a bit._

When he entered the range, he scanned the lanes for Tom. All were taken by groups of people. Kaidan frowned and peered at the lines of those waiting or milling about. Perhaps he’d beaten Tom here? Wouldn’t surprise him.

“Kaidan!”

He looked up just in time to see Tom get kicked by a girl on a bench as he rushed towards Kaidan. He frowned again, but for an entirely different reason.

From a distance, she looked almost like Alexis. Her hair was longer, and he couldn’t tell if it was the same shade of dark brown hers had been. 

“Hey, pal,” Tom greeted him, jogging right up to him and blocking out the marine. “All the lanes were taken, but I spotted some friends.” He stabbed his thumb backwards. “Said it’d be cool if you joined.”

“Sure,” Kaidan shrugged. It was probably just wishful thinking on his behalf.

“Uh oh,” Tom said, and Kaidan arched an eyebrow at him. “Let’s hear it. Something’s on your mind.”

Kaidan scanned his military tags through the VI and selected a couple pistols and one assault rifle. “Just... stuff.”

“Girl stuff?”

Kaidan rolled his shoulders, which was apparently enough for Tom. “Look, buddy. I’m gonna tell you something you need to hear.” He leaned in conspiratorially, but spoke at the same volume. He didn’t think Tom knew the meaning of ‘quiet.’ “Your fling was ages ago. Besides, you don’t have shit to go off of. She’s _gone._ ”

Was it crazy that he was still in love with the same girl from Trident? Probably. He’d _tried_ dating other girls, but none lasted beyond the first date. None of them were _her._ Inevitably, that’s what it came down at the end of the night when he had to decide if he wanted to call the girl back or not. 

There was only one girl he wanted to call back. 

“Have you ever met Commander Shepard?” Tom asked him suddenly. 

“No, can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Then get your omni out and ready to be signed, because she’s at our lane.”

“Omni-tools can’t be signed, they’re _holographic._ ”

“You know what I mea-- oh, sonofabitch,” Tom cursed just as a reporter entered the range, VI following behind her next to her personal assistant.

“My sources say Commander Shepard is here...” the reporter said into her camera, flashing a dazzling smile. “Time to find out the rules behind the woman who saved Elysium with her bare hands.”

“I highly doubt she did it with her bare hands,” Kaidan muttered and Tom nodded next to him.

“Shepard’s gonna bail. Hates reporters.”

Kaidan shrugged. No big loss to him, really. He couldn’t blame the woman. Reporters had been dogging her heels for years. 

The reporter slid up to them, noticing the attention. “I couldn’t help but overhear you mention Commander Shepard,” she said, angling her camera towards Tom. “Do you know her?”

Tom folded his arms. “Yeah, I know her.”

“What about you?” The camera swung to him. 

“No.”

The camera swung away, the reporter no longer interested in his side of the story. Suited him just fine. Last thing he needed was an N7 knocking down his door, looking to kick his ass.

“What can you tell us about Commander Shepard?”

The reporter held her breath expectantly as she waited for Tom’s response, probably expecting him to wax poetical about her prowess on the field, how she was an angel of death and enemies fled before her ire or some bullshit like that. Instead, he eyed her up and down. “She’s a damn site more honorable than you’ll ever be.”

She pinched her lips and brushed past them, muttering about cutting that out from her show. 

“Damned media never leave marines alone,” Kaidan muttered irritably. 

“Yeah, I don’t think Shepard knew what she was in for when she staved off the Blitz.”

“Most people don’t.”

“Come on, Lorrie’ll be all by herself now.” He looked at Kaidan. “Lorrie’s off limits.”

He sighed. “I only want one girl, Tom.”

He just had to find her. And he would. If it took him the rest of his life, he’d find her and tell her that he’d never stopped thinking about her, couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d tell her she was ‘the one’ and he never wanted to let her go.


	5. May 2, 2183

Commander Shepard studied the crew manifest of the prototype deep scout frigate _SSV Normandy_. Aside from the fact that she was one hell of a ship, she also sported one hell of a crew.

_Two_ N7’s, _two_ biotics (when most postings were lucky if they got one), the best damned pilot in the fleet, and, after launch, they’d be swinging by Palaven to pick up a turian Spectre. Not to mention that the rest of the crew had enough talent that she was pretty sure meant they could reinvent relay technology if they put their minds to it.

She didn’t like that Captain Anderson would be deferring to a Council Spectre, but her opinion didn’t count on the matter. Council funding, Council mission, Council appointed leader. Hopefully, the Spectre would be polite enough to let Anderson handle his own ship and smart enough to make it look as though Anderson was still in charge. 

“Joker was a good choice,” she murmured, and Captain Anderson grunted. “I saw the drive core on my tour earlier.”

Tantalus drive core, double the size of standard drive cores, and worth a fortune in credits. Playing nice with the turians was _expensive._ Combine the drive core with the IES stealth system and you had one hell of a ship. She hadn’t thought stealth was possible, but the brainiacs in the Alliance had figured out a way to ‘store’ the heat for later dispensation and a way to override the necessity of heat-emitting thrusters that would render the IES useless. (She didn’t want to think of the possibilities if _that_ wasn’t dissipated in time. Being cooked alive was not a pleasant thought.) Still, it only worked with sub-light travel. Using the FTL would be like setting of a beacon whilst loudly proclaiming, ‘Here I am, come and get me!’

She was sure there was way more science and technobabble behind how it worked, but all she needed to know was that the ship was able to run silent for a maximum of three hours before the heat would have to be vented, thereby giving away their position. Any stealth ops would have to be planned to a T, and she’d still set the window at two hours to account for error.

She frowned. Her head of marine detail better have a solid brain on his shoulders.

“She is a bit much to handle. Joker’s been running sim’s all day, calibrating and testing. He’s reassured me no fewer than ten times that while the _Normandy_ has an oversized drive core, it’s nothing he can’t handle.”

She laughed. “I’ll just leave him alone, then.”

Anderson grinned at her over the datapad. “Don’t want to get between a man and his love?”

“Not when that ‘love’ could blow me to high heaven.”

Anderson snorted and leaned back in his chair, draining the last of his coffee. “As for your ground team, Corporal Jenkins won’t report for duty until the day before launch. Currently stationed on the _Seaside_ which was due back tomorrow, but they picked up an asari distress beacon. The nearest asari cruiser was too far to pass it off.”

Shepard nodded. Made sense. “What about...” she perused the data pad, looking for the name she wanted... “Lieutenant Alenko?” 

Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Should have arrived on the station today. Knowing him, he’ll probably check in first thing in the morning. Meticulous, Sentinel training - same as you, though from what I’ve heard, he doesn’t carry a shotgun.” He thumbed through the information on the table. “Currently on the fast-track to being promoted to Lieutenant-Commander.”

“Has he ever managed marine detail before?”

“No, but I wouldn’t worry about it, Shepard. He’s capable. It’s why I picked him.”

She grunted at that and took a closer look at his service record. It was spotless, with no fewer than eight commendations per year since the beginning of his career. He had more than most marines she knew combined, which was saying something since it appeared as if he’d waited to enlist till a few years after the magic age. She arched an eyebrow. With a record like that... “He being groomed for XO?”

Anderson nodded. “Eventually.”

“Hmm.”

“Shepard, if you’re that concerned, message him for a meeting. Take him out for a beer to soften the blow that the real reason you’re talking to him is so you can pick through his brain to make sure he isn’t an idiot.”

“This meeting off the record, sir?”

“Tour doesn’t start till the May 6th.”

“Excellent,” she replied and lightly kicked the Captain under the table. He shook his head at her, but smiled all the same.

“Go on, get out of here.” He threw her a datapad. “Alenko’s address is on there. Though if you let the man breathe, I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

Twenty minutes later, she found herself standing in T barracks. If this Alenko was a tech to boot, then maybe he really did have a head on his shoulders. Techs were downright _useful_. She could hack a door alright and perform partial restores on combat radar. Basic stuff. Anything else, and she was useless. She squinted at the number on the datapad. Apartment T17... She looked at the nearest door. T11... T13...

She stopped in front of T17 and stowed the datapad away. After performing a quick once over to make sure she looked like she was an XO (a disheveled XO was no impression to make, especially not a first impression), she rapped on his door. And waited.

No response. She shifted on her feet and rapped again, but was beginning to feel like the ‘personal’ approach was a lost cause.

“Shepard?” a voice said and she turned around to see Tom. He eyed the door. “What the hell are you doing here? N barracks are...”

“I know where the N barracks are, jackass,” she rolled her eyes at him and stabbed her finger at the door. “Trying to find Kaidan Alenko.”

Why that should cause his eyes to widen, she had no idea, but widen they did. He looked from the door to her then back again. “Why’re you looking for Kaidan?”

“He’s my new head of marine detail.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “And you wanted to make sure he’s got a solid head on his shoulders.”

“That’s right. You seen him?”

“He left about an hour ago, no idea where though. Maybe to see his old ship off.”

Terrific. She didn’t feel like going on a goose chase across the station looking for him. Better to just send a message, pick a place and park her ass, then wait for him to show up. “Thanks, Tom. You see him, tell him I’m looking for him, will ya’?”

“Sure thing.” She turned on her heel and activated her ‘tool. “Hey, Alexis!” she paused and looked over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow. He licked his lips. “You ever been to Trident?”

...the fuck? She slowly walked back towards him. “Why?”

He raised his hands. “Jesus, don’t go all N7 on me. Trying to pick a place for my next shore leave, heard there were a lot of beaches there.”

Oh. For a second she’d thought... but that was just stupid. “Lots of beaches, sure. But it’s hurricane season right now.”

“When did you last go?”

“Right _before_ hurricane season in 2179.”

“That was awhile ago,” he replied.

She smirked, “They teach you that kind of math in basic?”

“Gotta learn it somewhere. See ya’ ‘round. And Shepard?” she paused from turning away to look back at him. “Good luck.”

Odd. Well, Tom was odd, so it really shouldn’t strike her as odd at all that he was being odd. She pulled out the datapad as she slowly walked away, no real direction in mind, and looked up Alenko’s email. Hopefully Anderson was right about him being meticulous, because meticulous typically extended to prompt. And she liked prompt.

_To: Kaidan Alenko_  
From: Alexis Shepard  
Subject: Marine Detail, SSV Normandy 

_Lieutenant, if you have a moment, I’d like to go over ground team specs. You free tonight? Drinks are on me._

_-Shepard_

She checked her message over, nodded to herself, and tapped send. Even if Anderson hadn’t suggested her buying the rounds, she would have done it anyway, because technically, she was infringing on his free time. It was the least she could do.

Well, if she had time... might as well return to her apartment and change into something more comfortable. She wasn’t on duty now and her N7 hoodie was the most comfortable goddamn thing in the _world_. Besides, if Alenko was free, it’d make her easier to find. 

Not that she typically liked being easy to find, especially since reporters tended to ambush her at the most inopportune moments. But she had to make concessions for her crew.

Really, though, it was all about the comfort.

She was just about to unlock her door when her omni pinged. 

_From: Kaidan Alenko_  
To: Alexis Shepard  
Subject: Re: Marine Detail, SSV Normandy 

_Commander, I’m wide open. Instant messaging ID: K_Alenko._

_-Alenko_

She could have jumped for glee. If he was this prompt and forward thinking, then she probably didn’t have a thing to worry about. Still, just in case he had a hang up or some grand notion about what it meant to work with ‘Commander Shepard’ (if she could change one thing about the Blitz, it’d be the damned notoriety and hero status), it’d be good to turn those on their head. The last thing she needed was a tech gunning for glory.

She stripped out of her standard issue shirt, grabbed an Alliance blue tank top, and zipped on her N7 hoodie. She glanced at herself in the mirror, frowned at the ponytail and pulled her hair down. She hated wearing her hair up, and she hated short hair. Once she’d brushed it a few times , she opened the instant messaging program. After her ‘Shepard’ account had been bombarded with messages from reporters requesting interviews, she’d delinked it from her ‘tool and created a new one just using her first name. Miraculously, the reporters hadn’t caught on because she’d managed to convince them she went by _Alex_ instead. She was loathe to give out the details to anyone. 

She opened a dialogue with Alenko.

_Alexis: It’s Shepard. What time works best for you?_

_K_Alenko: Anytime._

_Alexis: I’m not interrupting plans?_

_K_Alenko: No plans to interrupt. Did you have a place in mind?_

_Alexis: Actually, I was gonna ask you. I rarely stick around Arcturus enough to know the good places._

_K_Alenko: You know where the range is on B-Deck?_

_Alexis: Yeah, been there a couple times._

_K_Alenko: There’s a bar just around the corner: The Smoking Barrel._

_Alexis: Is that seriously what it’s called?_

_K_Alenko: Unfortunately. Better than the one further down the street named The Sticky Relay._

_Alexis: Augh._

_K_Alenko: Then there’s the greek bar which sounds nice up by N Barracks._

_Alexis: Apollo’s Lounge?_

_K_Alenko: I take it you’ve been there?_

_Alexis: Once. And only once._

_K_Alenko: No one warned you?_

_Alexis: It was late, I was starving, figured it couldn’t be that bad. Almost ruined BSG for me._

This time, the response was delayed. Maybe she’d thrown him for a loop with BSG. It was an old show, but one she loved dearly. Nevermind the four-year-old sentimental aspect it now carried. Maybe she should just cruise around Arcturus and hope to run into ‘Apollo’. She had nothing planned tomorrow, and besides, a walk would do her good. 

Not like she’d actually run into him. But on the off chance that she did...

_K_Alenko: I’m surprised they’re still open. Anyway, The Smoking Barrel, terribly named as it is, has good food for decent prices._

_Alexis: I’ll grab a table. Shouldn’t be hard to miss me._

_K_Alenko: Alright, I should be there in fifteen._

It took her eight minutes to get there and another three to get a table for two. The place was busy, which only lent merit to Alenko’s assessment that the food was good. Damn, she should have asked him what he liked so she could order an appetizer because she had a feeling that the server wasn’t going to make it back to the table for at least another twenty minutes.

She opened her omni and sent him a quick message, informing him her table was near the back. As she waited, she absent-mindedly pulled the seashell out of her pocket and flipped it between her fingers. Maybe she should think of getting it turned into a necklace or something. She wasn’t too concerned about jewelry matching her outfit, and she was increasingly afraid that she might break it, but couldn’t seem to stop carrying it with her.

Stupid, she knew, but there it was. Her heart still believed that falling in love with ‘Apollo’ was the best decision it had ever made, and it wasn’t going to renegotiate the contract any time soon, if ever. 

Her omni pinged and she let the seashell fall to the table in front of her.

_K_Alenko: Table in the far corner, beneath the purple lamp?_

She supposed she had chosen to sit on the side of the table where the stripe from her sleeve wasn’t visible, and didn’t blame him for wanting to make sure it was her before crashing some unsuspecting person’s table in an embarrassing mistake. She glanced up to make sure the lamp really was purple before writing him back. 

_Alexis: That’s the one._

She shut her omni down and picked up the seashell. The mood lighting in the bar played fantastically with the blue-green shimmer, giving it an almost magical quality. She rolled the seashell in her fingers and wondered what was taking Alenko so long if he’d seen which table she was sitting at. 

She was just about to send him a message when he sat down at her table.

-A-

After getting over the initial shock from first seeing ‘Alexis’ in the ‘from’ line from in his inbox, he’d quickly typed out a response and sent it off while watching the _Midway_ depart. He hadn’t been entirely truthful when he told Commander Shepard that he was wide open, because he’d planned on seeing if Tom was free considering he’d ran into him just over an hour ago. But when the XO messaged you (and that XO was Commander fucking Shepard), one did not write back, ‘Actually, I was gonna hang out with my buddy. Rain check?’

Now as the _Midway_ faded in the distance, he was standing there with an altogether different dilemma, instant messaging program open and waiting for his response.

She’d said _BSG_. And her name was _Alexis_.

The rational part of his brain tried to tell him that the chances were too small that Commander Shepard was his girl, and he was operating purely on wishful thinking. Something, it vehemently pointed out, it did not approve of. Wishful thinking didn’t solve his seemingly never-ending quest to find his Alexis, and he shouldn’t pretend otherwise. Besides, the chances were pretty good that at least a few of the biotic Alexis’ he’d read about were decently geeky enough to have heard of BSG. 

He just really wanted to find his, because he felt as if he was missing a part of himself.

So after realizing that he’d left the chat open and unanswered long enough to be awkward, he typed out: I’m surprised they’re still open. Anyway, The Smoking Barrel, terribly named as it is, has good food for decent prices.

He hoped she wouldn’t notice or mention the delay. Fortunately for him, she didn’t. Or if she did, she didn’t mention it. Either way, he was grateful.

With one final glance at the _Midway_ , he shoved off the railing and began the long trek towards The Smoking Barrel. It really was a terrible name, and he was glad that Commander Shepard appeared to have a sense of humor. He’d had a few XO’s that were considerably lacking in the humor department and working with them had always made the tours feel longer than necessary. He wasn’t too surprised by the fact, because he had read some interview translations from talk shows (he hated listening to talk radio and avoided it if he could). Most of the reporters seemed surprised at the humanity she displayed, that she seemed to laugh so readily. Why that surprised them was beyond him. It was as if they thought that in order to go above and beyond the call of duty, one had to become a pillar of justice and abandon everything else.

Hadn’t she said something about just being in the wrong place at the wrong time? That she simply did the best she could with what she had available?

He ran his hand through his hair as he rounded the corner to his apartment. Probably best to _not_ focus on the fact that his XO was the hero from Elysium. If he were in her shoes, that’d be the best way to get himself added to her shitlist.

“Hey Kaidan,” Tom shouted from across the hallway from his apartment, door open. He leaned against the doorframe. “Shepard was looking for you.”

“She was here?”

“Yeah, ‘bout twenty minutes ago. Told me to tell you she dropped by.”

He waved his ‘tool. “Already got an email from her.” He paused thoughtfully. “You know Shepard, right?”

Tom gave him a funny look. “Yeah...”

“Is she a geek?”

“Biggest one I know, aside from you. Last time I hung out with her, she tried to get me to watch some old show about space travel.” He waved his hand in the air. “Something Trek.”

Alenko’s heart fluttered in his chest. “Star Trek?”

Tom stabbed his finger at him dramatically. “That’s the one.”

… It had to be a coincidence. Right? Though really, the odds of his Alexis being Commander Shepard were just as good as any of the other biotics named Alexis. 

Right now, he really wanted it to be Commander Shepard, more than he’d wanted anything in his entire life. Even when he was five and thought that if his Dad didn’t give him the most recent model of the fully automatic mini-mako, he’d die. It was hard to turn the hope down to a simmer, but he didn’t want his heart to be completely crushed when he walked into that bar and Commander Shepard turned out to be just some other marine.

He couldn’t turn the hope off, though. 

“Hey, is it really hurricane season on Trident right now?”

… the fuck? He narrowed his eyes at Tom. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, _you_ had a great time there, figured I’d go there, too. But someone told me it was hurricane season right now.”

“Oh,” he couldn’t entirely keep the regret out of his voice. “I haven’t checked recently.”

Tom shrugged. “Some other shore leave, then.” He turned back to head into his apartment. “Don’t keep the boss waiting!”

Kaidan checked his ‘tool. He still had just over five minutes, and The Smoking Barrel wasn’t far. He exchanged his shirt for a fresh one, attempted to smooth his somewhat unruly hair before resigning himself to the fact that it was just going to poke up regardless, and left at a quick trot. 

The Smoking Barrel was _packed_. The message he’d gotten from Shepard said she’d managed to snag a table near the back. After quickly informing the hostess that he was meeting someone and therefore didn’t need a table, he slipped into the bar proper and scanned the tables.

That’s when he saw _her_. 

It couldn’t be, could it? His imagination was playing tricks on him. Maybe he’d tripped coming here and was currently lying unconscious on the ground. He looked back at his omni-tool then back at her. Still real. The table lined up with what his message said...

_K_Alenko: Table in the far corner, beneath the purple lamp?_

He had to know. He sent the message and looked back up. She dropped something out of her hand and activated her ‘tool, then glanced up. His pinged again.

_Alexis: That’s the one._

…

He froze. Four years of hoping to find her, wanting to find her, needing to find her, and she was right there in front of him, waiting for him to walk over and sit down. Except she didn’t know it was him. 

He suddenly felt like he was 29 and falling in love all over again. 

She picked up whatever she’d dropped onto the table and began rolling it between her fingers, idly waiting. 

Before he entirely knew what he was doing, his boots carried him to the table and he sat down at the table. She looked exactly as he remembered. He still couldn’t believe that it was _her_. 

The object in her hand tipped sideways onto the table as she looked at him with a mixture of shock and alarm. “I’m supposed to be meeting -”

He stuck out his hand and her eyes fell down to it. After all these years, all the searching, the hope... here she was. He almost couldn’t speak. “Staff-Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko.”

Her eyes whipped up to his and he smiled at her. She tentatively reached out and accepted his hand with warm, calloused fingers. “Lieutenant-Commander Alexis Shepard.”

His eyes tracked down to the seashell that laid abandoned on the table, and she blushed. It was worn smooth, undoubtedly from countless hours spent feeling its surface. Warmth blossomed in him, shooting throughout his nervous system like liquid fire. The delicately pale hand still rested in his, neither having let go. 

When he looked back up, her blue eyes, those same blue eyes he’d fallen in love with four years ago, were clear and deep, hopeful, yet guarded. She still had the seashell.

...

_She still had the seashell_.

He still vividly remembered giving it to her. He...

_...broke off the kiss but didn’t rise, unable or unwilling to get up. Each time he kissed her, he wanted to kiss her longer, hold her tighter, and lose himself in her. He realized he was fast on the track to becoming the world’s biggest idiot, but was still pretty sure it was just a crush and that within a few days of leaving Trident, what he felt now would fade away into the background and blend in with the warmth of a fond memory of a good time._

_Still, as he perched himself above her, he couldn’t help but furrow his brow and not quite meet her eyes, because some other more aware part of him was ever so incessantly whispering in the background that he was lying to himself. Whether to save face in front of her or make the inevitable goodbye easier to bear didn’t matter._

_He definitely didn’t want to think of saying goodbye right now._

_He was on the verge of getting up when something caught his eye, just to the right of her ear, half-buried in the sand. He retrieved the seashell from its place of former exile and watched it play colorfully across her skin, the light from the sun dancing through the almost translucent material._

_It reminded him of her eyes. “This would have gone great with your sand castle.”_

_For a tiny second, her eyes had lit up in something that was part surprise, part wonder, and part something he couldn’t quite identify while at the same time making him feel warm and chivalrous and whole cocktail of good feelings because her smile was amazing. Her fingers danced across his as he placed the seashell in her hand._

_She peered at him over the edge, blue eyes reflecting the light that danced across her face, and smiled her devious smile..._

“Can I start over?” he asked, and she jumped slightly as he got up from the table without waiting for an answer and walked away. He could feel her eyes follow him, undoubtedly wondering what the fuck he was up to. But he’d committed himself. Once outside, he executed a perfect about-face and tracked back the way he’d come. He stopped just short of the entrance, checking his uniform and wiping the palms of his hands. Why he should suddenly feel so nervous... hell, he knew exactly why he was so nervous, and it was because of what he was about to do.

He re-entered the restaurant and felt her eyes instantly light upon him.

This time, he picked up the chair, examined the situation with a critical eye while ignoring the slightly confused arch to her eyebrow for the moment, and placed the chair three o’clock from hers. He sat down, stuck out his hand, took a deep, calming breath and said, “Hi, my name is Kaidan Alenko and I’d very much like to date you.”

There was no hesitation as she accepted his hand again with a smile. “My name is Alexis Shepard and I very much find your proposition to be acceptable.”

He leaned in close to her and whispered, “I broke the third rule.”

She leaned forward and whispered back, “Me too.”

He really, really wanted to kiss her. But he was sure a public display to that degree was most definitely _not_ appropriate, and that was putting aside the fact that it would be a massive violation of the regs.

Hell, he’d just asked her to be his girlfriend, and she’d agreed. His whole body ached with longing to hold her close to him because here she was, sitting in front of him, and she was so very beautiful. He no longer felt incomplete. 

“I broke it _hard_ ,” he said and her lips curled up in a smile. 

She glanced around. “Service is kind of slow tonight, don’t you think?”

He peered over his shoulder at the bustle of activity. “Yeah, they look really busy. Might be awhile before we even get water, let alone food.”

“You know,” she said and he swung his gaze back to look at her. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. “I’m not really that hungry.”

“In that case, it might be considered rude for us to be taking up a table in the first place.”

“Especially if they’re so busy. Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“I know just the place,” he said and pulled her to her feet. 

Ten minutes later, he was fumbling at the lock to his door, Alexis standing behind him, her hand still in his. Neither noticed Tom poke his head, smile and shake his head, before disappearing. Once the door was open, he pulled her in and relocked the mechanism.

She strode to the center of his apartment and looked around, taking in his small collection of nerdy knick-knacks and couple of vintage posters. Being single for so long had advantages when it came to buying expensive items. She flashed him a grin before walking up to one he had of Battlestar Galactica. Her fingers lightly grazed Captain Lee ‘Apollo’ Adama before she turned to him. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” she smiled at him.

He slowly walked up to her, slipping his hand in his pocket. She rotated to face him fully, eyes peering up at him expectantly. When the distance between them was almost negligible, he slid the scarf out of his pocket and gently swept her hair to the side. She shivered as his fingers grazed her skin. He slipped the scarf around her, letting her hair fall back down around her shoulders. He slid his hand down until his thumb rested in the little hollow at the base of her neck. “You left this at Trident.”

Tears shone in her eyes, but didn’t spill over. He raised his other hand to gently caress her cheek.

God, he’d missed her.

Ever so gently, he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips trembled as they met his, and he soothed them with his soft embrace. He never wanted to stop kissing her, couldn’t stop kissing her. She melted into his arms and he wrapped her in his. The sense of being incomplete, of being lost disappeared as she deepened the kiss, voicing her joy into the back of his throat. His lips pressed fiercely against hers, memorizing the feel of her, the taste of her. When her tongue met his, he groaned softly and hitched her closer. Her hands slid around his waist and up his back, fingers curling into his harness. 

When she finally broke off the kiss, she shook against him and he lifted her into his arms, burying his face into her hair as she buried hers into his neck. “I missed you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

She squeezed him tighter, fingers digging into his skin. “I missed you, too.”

He crushed her against him. He would never let her go again. Nothing in this universe could make him.

She pulled away just enough to press her forehead against his and stared deep into his eyes. “You were always the only one,” he confessed.

She closed her eyes and smiled. “You too,” her voice was so small, so full of emotion that he pulled her into another kiss. He let the sweet, tender touch of his lips on hers speak for him, unable to find the words he needed. 

When she collapsed against him with shaky breath, and as he held her, she whispered, “I think I’m in love with you.”

His world exploded around him. It was as if someone had stopped time because she’d just told him the one thing he’d longed to hear for years, thought he would never hear, and couldn’t believe he was hearing now. He picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to his bedroom, staring deep into her eyes. He carefully undressed her, savoring every moment as if it were his last, memorizing it as if were his first, kissing her in between. When they finally fell onto the bed together, he pulled her beneath him and gently tucked her hair behind her ear, trailing his finger down her skin, over the jagged scar leading down her left shoulder to the side of her breast.

“Elysium,” she said.

He met her eyes, letting the sadness shine through. The love that he felt coursing through his veins like liquid gold. Ever so gently, he pressed a kiss to her breast, as if he could kiss the past away.

Her fingers slid to his lips, tracing the series of scars around his mouth. He closed his eyes as her thumb brushed across his lips. “BAaT,” he said. 

She pulled his head down and pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

He sought out the tender spot between breasts, where the heart lay, with his fingers. She shivered at his chaste touch. He captured her eyes once more with his and said, “Trident,” before pressing a kiss where his fingers rested. 

When he raised his eyes to hers, they were gleaming a bright blue, shining with what he now recognized as love. “I love you,” he said, and slipped inside her.

As he made love to her, staring deep into her eyes, he knew he was home. He was complete. Each measured thrust was paced to the beating of his heart. He kissed her again as she whispered his real name, hips swaying into him, and warmth spread over him like fire. She was everything he needed and more. She was where he belonged. 

She’d changed his life in unimaginable ways, and now that he found her, he couldn’t imagine living without her.


End file.
